


Unknowing Guise

by STARSdidathing



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arranged Marriage, Courtship, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Feels, Fluffy Ending, Good Boyfriend Tony Stark, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Loki (Marvel), Insecurity, Loki (Marvel) Angst, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Gets a Hug, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, M/M, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23335975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/STARSdidathing/pseuds/STARSdidathing
Summary: An arranged marriage was, more often than not, a loveless affair.When Loki was told he would marry a mortal to better unite the realms, he was expecting an ignorant fool. He did not expect the bright and fiery Anthony Stark.For nearly a year, Loki thought things were perfect - and then his skin turned blue.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Comments: 102
Kudos: 1295





	Unknowing Guise

**Author's Note:**

> Some feels for you all (with a fluffy ending). 
> 
> I wish everyone and their families the best. Take care ♥

An arranged marriage was, more often than not, a loveless affair. Sometimes, if a match was well picked, there could be friendship, affection and even love.

Loki had never anticipated he would be one of the lucky ones.

His personality was not well suited to most, and he could be cold and scathing to anyone he did not deem worthy of his time or attention.

Loki didn’t have friends, he rarely had long-term lovers, and even among the populace he was not highly regarded. 

It meant that, when his mother and father told him he would be married to a mortal from Midgard to better unite the realms, he had been expecting an ignorant fool.

He had _not_ expected the bright and fiery Anthony Stark.

When their eyes had first met across the crowded hall, Loki had felt a shiver of anticipation rush down his spine. The man was short, but handsome, and his eyes boasted a sharp intelligence that even without uttering a word, Loki knew would be a match for his own.

When they came together, clasping hands in a greeting both formal and intimate, it was with a wry smirk on Anthony’s lips and an amused quirk of Loki’s eyebrow. They had never before met, never exchanged a word, but in that single moment, they understood one another perfectly.

Loki had thought, with some surprise: _This might work._

And it did.

It amazingly, blissfully, _perfectly_ did.

Anthony Stark was wickedly intelligent, incredibly mischievous and every moment with him was a pleasure. They performed all the public courting rituals while sharing amused glances and as they walked through Asgard alone, taking the time to get to know one another, they found they had more in common than Loki could believe.

When they kissed for the first time outside Anthony’s guest room (not for the alliance, not for the marriage, not for a witness, but entirely for _themselves_ ) Loki had the delighted feeling that he could be _happy_ with Anthony.

He wished they didn’t have to wait for their wedding night to consummate the relationship. Because affectionate kisses turned into deep, passionate embraces. They were both men of considerable experience who were not used to holding back. They often broke apart with curses and groans of frustration rather than delight.

 _“Why the fuck are Asgardian courtships so long?”_ Anthony complained.

_“Because we are a long-lived race who don’t like to rush.”_

_“A fucking year is insane. You’re all insane. I’m going to die of blue balls.”_

Loki laughed and kissed him again. _“Have some patience, Anthony. You will soon be one of these ‘long lived beings’ once I feed you the apple during our vows.”_

_“It would be so much sexier if you fed me in bed. Can we do that for dessert?”_

Unable to quell his smile, Loki instead chose to hide it in Anthony’s hair. _“Whatever you wish.”_

Loki never intended to fall in love, nor to do it so soon. They were not even _married_ , and yet, Loki knew he had been entirely charmed and ensnared.

Anthony had spent five months on Asgard with Loki, learning Asgard’s customs and exploring the planet he would eventually come to call his own. 

Another five Loki had spent with him on Midgard, learning about his mortal’s life and world, and visiting Anthony’s favourite places. They were rarely seen apart and were quick to come to the other’s defence, offer a comforting shoulder or a ready ear.

They were, in every sense, a _couple_ long before the event was meant to take place.

Loki almost believed that the Fates themselves had drawn them together, because, how else had Loki found a match so perfect for him?

A match that his parents approved of and whom he could marry not only for love but for duty as well; everything, for a few unbelievable heartbeats was _perfect_.

But then it all went wrong.

Loki had been experimenting with spells designed to keep Anthony protected. He had already heavily warded the mortal and his armour, but it wasn’t _enough_ , until Anthony took the apple, he was vulnerable. Loki couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to Anthony.

He’d woken at night in a sweat and with a cry on his lips having dreamt of Anthony being injured in a battle where Loki had not arrived in time to save him. It was in those moments he wished he could reach out and touch his sleeping, unharmed lover - but they had not yet shared a bed, they were _forbidden_.

His mortal had provided him with a phone that, with a little magic, could bridge the distance of worlds. He would often call his mortal, needing to hear his voice. The time difference between realms could vary greatly, and although Anthony was often aware Loki was calling in the middle of the night, he never once commented except to ask that Loki was okay.

Loki always offered the same courtesy when Anthony called him in need of a distraction from unpleasant dreams. Sometimes, if he was not needed, he would sneak away to Midgard and be with his mortal in person. It always eased his heart so much more to be able to hold Anthony in his arms and press a kiss to his hair.

This time, Loki was in the midst of creating a way of protecting Anthony from extreme heat and freezing cold. He was having difficulty with the former and so had turned to the latter. He was perfecting the spell with ease, having a natural affinity for working with ice.

He’d spent so long chanting and letting the temperature in his room plummet that he didn’t notice the change of his hands, then his arms and all the way over his chest. He only noticed when he glanced down, planning to look at the spell book, that’s when he saw his hand; it was blue.

Not just any blue, it was _jotun_ blue.

He’d gasped and yanked his arms away, abruptly ending the spell and sending the magic erupting around his room in a sudden burst of ice and snow. Loki hardly noticed, he could only stare at his hand with horror. What had he done?

His arm shook as the skin slowly faded back to Aesir white. 

_It has to be a side-effect_ , he told himself, despite knowing no such thing should exist.

He was still trembling as he reached for the book and searched for any explanation for what had happened; there was none.

Loki spent an entire day locked in his room, pouring over texts and even refusing calls from Anthony. He had to know what had gone wrong. Yet, with every book he threw away in disgust, his panic mounted, until, against his better judgement, against the part of him screaming to _turn back, don’t do it, pretend it never happened_ , Loki found himself in Asgard’s vault.

The Casket of Ancient Winters stood in front of him blue and ominous. It was an item none save a Frost Giant could touch without gaining dreadful burns. He stood in front of it with his heart in his throat and fear rushing down his spine.

 _It can’t be true_ , he told himself. _It must be a mistake._

He reached out for the Casket, his hands shaking as he curled them around the handles. He waited, but instead of a physical agony, an emotional one formed; sliding up his hands in the form of blue skin and a life-long lie.

“ _No_ ,” he choked out, his voice rough and pained, yet the change wouldn’t stop. He was a Jotnar, hidden in the house of Odin. His life, his _family_ were a lie.

He let go of the Casket and stumbled backwards. He felt as if he was breaking, and there was only one place he could turn. He didn’t even think as he grabbed his seidr and fled. He pushed himself through space, rushing along the branches of Yggdrasil until he could throw himself at Stark Tower and Anthony. He tumbled into Anthony’s lab, arriving in a burst of magic that was uncoordinated and left him on his knees.

“Loki!?” Anthony shouted. “Shit! Loki? Oh my God, are you okay?”

A raw sound ripped from Loki’s throat and suddenly Anthony was on his knees in front of Loki. His eyes were wide and terrified and his hands hovered in the air. 

“Shit. Shit. You’re blue? What happened? Loki? Come on, talk to me!”

Loki made another agonised noise and covered his face. He curled in on himself, his face pressing to his knees as sobs began to wrack his frame. Anthony’s hands were tentative and unsure as they touched his back and began to soothingly rub, “Loki, shh, it’s okay, you’re here now. I won’t let anything happen to you. Okay? You’re in my tower, you’re safe.”

But, Loki didn’t feel safe, he felt broken, and what was more, he knew that the one person he loved in all the universe, would now never willingly marry him.

* * *

It took a while for Loki to be coaxed from the floor, and when he stood, he couldn’t stop looking at his hands. They were pale now, but Loki knew what lurked beneath. He was a monster. He didn’t know how he had come to be on Asgard and in the royal family, but it was all a lie.

Anthony encouraged him to the ratty couch in the lab and made him sit down. He then ran to get a glass of water, hovering beside Loki with eyes that were wide and worried.

“Loki? Are you okay? What can I do? Can I do anything? Come on, babe, you gotta talk to me.”

_Babe._

Loki almost sobbed again. One of many nicknames he’d mocked and scoffed at in the past, but now desperately needed to hear. It was something he’d thought would be his for eternity, but would now be gone the moment Anthony knew the truth.

He didn’t touch the water. He pulled the mortal into his arms, closing his arms around him and hugging Anthony close. The water sloshed and landed on his back, but he didn’t care. He buried his face in Anthony’s chest and held him tightly; desperate to keep his mortal from slipping away.

“Loki,” Anthony whispered, wrapping an arm around his back. “What happened?”

“I…” he choked on the word, but forced himself to keep going. “I am a lie.”

“What do you mean?”

“I-I am not Aesir. I am _Jotnar_ , monster, the enemy. They… they lied. I didn’t know. Anthony, I _didn’t know_.”

Anthony sucked in a sharp, horrified breath, before, “Oh shit, Loki.”

The water fell to the side, thrown by Anthony so he could pull Loki even tighter against him. Anthony’s arms were warm and firm and when Loki started sobbing again, Anthony’s hand went into his hair and stroked it. He murmured soothing nonsense and held Loki as he fell apart.

Everything was over, everything was _ruined_ , but for a little longer, compassion allowed Anthony to hold Loki in his arms and promise Loki that he was ‘ _here_ ’ and ‘ _wasn’t going anywhere_ ’. 

Loki let the lies wash over him, he let them sooth his aching heart. He had Anthony, even if it was only for a heartbeat.

* * *

Loki fell asleep on the sofa after an hour spent in Anthony’s arms. He was exhausted after the discovery, fleeing Asgard and the emotional upheaval of admitting and explaining it to Anthony.

He hadn’t said much, but Anthony had been schooled on inter-realm politics, he had also _seen_ Loki’s skin. He knew. There was no denying it. 

When Loki woke up alone in the lab, it wasn’t a surprise but it didn’t make it hurt any less. It was only a taste of things to come.

There was a brown blanket thrown over him and Loki ran his fingers over it; the gesture was a bittersweet agony. Anthony’s kindness was now a reminder of the beautiful, caring man he had lost. He was a lie, and Anthony was meant to marry a prince.

He closed his eyes on a fresh sting of tears. 

“Mr Liesmith?” JARVIS spoke tentatively.

He forced open his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. His voice was rough as he croaked, “Yes, JARVIS?”

“I do not wish to alarm you, but I thought it best to inform you that the cause for Mr Stark’s absence is the Queen of Asgard and five Einherjar on the roof.”

Loki jerked into a sitting position, horror, dread and agony all fighting for dominance inside him. “W-What?”

“The group of Aesir arrived a half hour ago,” JARVIS continued. “Mr Stark is refusing them entrance to the tower. He also denies the Queen her request to speak to you.” JARVIS hesitated, “Mr Stark has stated, on three occasions, that he will not change his mind unless you approve the decision.”

The ache in Loki’s chest only intensified.

“What do they want?”

“Queen Frigga wishes to speak with you, she has not expressed why but, Sir believes she is… aware of your discovery.”

Loki cringed and looked down at his hands.

“You are under no obligation to see them,” JARVIS insisted. “Mr Stark will keep them at bay for as long as you wish.”

“And risk a diplomatic incident?” Loki asked around a bleak laugh. “To undo all the work Midgard has done to gain an alliance with Asgard?” 

“Mr Stark-”

“No,” Loki interrupted, not wanting to know the truth. “I deserve answers and they will hurt no less now then they would in the future.”

He pushed aside the blanket and stood from the couch. He took a moment to let his seidr run over him, fixing the disarray and tear tracks from earlier. He then walked to the elevator and JARVIS let him inside without a word. The doors shut and he began ascending to the penthouse.

When the doors opened, he could already hear Anthony arguing, “You can ask me all day and all night and it’s not going to make a bit of difference.”

“Please, Anthony,” Frigga continued, her voice free from the calming, benevolent tones of a royal and now dropped to the worried, emotions of a mother.

If, of course, Loki could even _call_ her a mother.

When Loki stepped further into the penthouse, he saw Anthony standing with his arms crossed and a fierce glare. Frigga was the only one inside the penthouse and her posture was one of pleading rather than order. Loki knew that while she might spend an eternity trying to sway Anthony, she would never force herself any further inside without permission.

Loki didn’t know how to feel or what to say, but he refused to let Frigga see him break. 

“If it isn’t the Queen of Asgard,” Loki said, his voice not as smooth as his usual drawl. 

Frigga and Anthony both snapped their heads to look at him. Their eyes were both filled with surprise and concern, but it was Anthony’s gaze that gave him strength.

He made himself look at Frigga. “Tell me, _Frigga_ , when did you plan to tell me I was a monster?”

Anthony made a sound, an instinctive protest that was almost drowned out by Frigga’s swift, pained, “You are _not_ a monster.”

“I am a _Jotun_ , am I not? The _monster_ lurking under a child’s bed? The fearful stories that Thor and I grew up learning. The Aesir’s most _hated enemy_.” He was yelling. He didn’t care. “What am I? _Who_ am I?”

“You are my son,” Frigga whispered, her face devastated. “You are Loki, second prince of Asgard. You are the same man you were yesterday.”

“What _else?_ ” He snarled. “What _more than that?_ ”

Frigga swallowed, but she finally answered, “You were brought from Jotunheim by Odin. He found you abandoned as a baby. The moment you were put in my arms, you were _my_ son, Loki. I have loved you from the moment I held you.”

Loki’s jaw trembled but he hastily quelled it. “You lied to me, all my life.”

“We didn’t want to lose you,” Frigga admitted, tears finally catching in her eyes. “We planned to tell you, but we feared you would leave and return to Jotunheim.”

“To what end? To what _purpose?_ ” Loki growled. “You thought I would become the monster you always feared me to be?!”

“No!” Frigga insisted, even taking a step forward, before stopping herself. “Loki. No. You have never been a monster. You are-”

“Enough,” Loki snarled, turning his back, not wanting to hear it. “I am done.”

“Loki-” she whispered brokenly.

But, Anthony’s voice came next, strong and firm: “You heard him.”

Loki didn’t turn to watch the proceedings, but after a few moments of silence, Frigga said, hurt still threaded through her voice: “You are still my son. You are still a Prince of Asgard, if you wish to return home, you will always be welcome, Loki.”

Loki didn’t say a word or turn to look at her. He heard two sets of retreating footsteps, and after a few minutes, the sound of the Bifrost was heard. Loki still didn’t turn around, even when he heard Anthony’s soft footfalls approaching. He stopped just behind Loki.

“Loki,” Anthony began, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder, but Loki flinched away. He wrapped his arms around himself and refused to look at the mortal.

It took a moment before Anthony began again, this time without touching him. “You can stay here as long as you want. Your room hasn’t changed since you were last here.”

Loki gave a sharp nod, and although a part of him desperately wanted to curl into Anthony’s arms, the rest just wanted to be alone. It was the latter that won out as he started heading for the elevator, planning to go to his room.

He paused briefly when Anthony called out his name, “Loki, if you need anything, let me or JARVIS know, we’re right here.”

Loki gave a jerky nod but couldn’t say anything else. He stepped into the elevator and let the doors close behind him.

Despite it being his own choice and his own decision, Loki already regretted leaving the comfort and safety provided by Anthony’s presence and warmth.

* * *

It had been three weeks since Loki had arrived in Stark Tower.

The pain of betrayal still haunted him. He woke up at night with a strangled scream and looked down at his hand expecting to see cobalt blue. 

Sometimes, he even woke up from a dream where it wasn’t true, where Anthony was his husband and he was _Aesir_. It was always harder after those dreams, where the cold reality made him want to scream or sob.

Anthony tried to distract him by working in the lab, watching movies or taking him to visit places on Midgard. It… helped, but it also reminded him of something almost as painful as the deception.

Anthony never touched him, not once.

There were no casual bumps of the shoulder or brushes of fingers. There were no spontaneous hugs or soft kisses. 

And how could there be? Anthony knew what he was, Anthony had _seen_ him. Anthony wanted nothing to do with him romantically, let alone sexually. He was a monster. The creature Anthony would never take to his bed, let alone _marry_.

And yet.

And _yet_ , Frigga’s words haunted him. _You are still a Prince of Asgard_. Loki thought it a laughable, disgusting lie, but, if it was true, if she _meant_ it, then politically speaking, their marriage was still viable.

The thought played on Loki’s mind. He could not forgive his so-called family, he couldn’t even stomach the thought of returning to the palace. He wanted to stay here, in Anthony’s tower forever and with the other man at his side.

But, Anthony had made his opinion obvious. They could not return to what they once were, but… they had both planned to marry for the benefit of their planets once. Perhaps, Anthony would be willing to do it again?

Loki knew that if he could hold onto something with Anthony, if he hadn’t lost the mortal completely, then he would be able to make it through without shattering. He just needed a chance, a small spot of hope. He needed to know that if he gave in and clung to Anthony, the mortal wouldn’t drift away and leave him alone.

He needed to talk to Anthony, he was just terrified to do it. The longer he put it off, the longer he could believe that Anthony would agree. He could then pretend that sometime, down the line, decades in the future, Anthony might be willing to touch him again, might even kiss or bed him.

Maybe he couldn’t salvage everything or regain Anthony’s affection and high regard, but perhaps, he could get _something_.

It was what found Loki venturing out of his room late one night. He couldn’t sleep, his mind plagued with thoughts of a desolate future without the mortal in his life. JARVIS had informed him that Anthony was in the lab, and Loki made his way down to see him without hesitation.

He hadn’t planned to mention his turbulent thoughts or the fear that haunted him. Yet, when he arrived in the laboratory it was to find Anthony bent over a desk with robotic parts everywhere. He was in old, stained, ripped clothing and he was muttering to himself.

The sight of him made Loki’s chest flood with affection and longing. He wanted to step close and run his fingers through Anthony’s hair. He wanted to pull the other man in his arms and hug him until his fear ebbed away. He wanted to whisper ‘ _I love you_ ’ and make the smaller man smile.

Loki wanted to marry Anthony with every fibre of his broken, unworthy heart.

“Please still marry me,” Loki whispered, the words escaping before he could catch them. They were soft but still loud enough to carry across the lab. 

Anthony tensed and slowly turned around. His expression was unreadable and Loki swallowed before looking away. He stared at the ground.

“Please,” he said again, his voice gaining a faint tremble. “We aren’t what we used to be, I-I know that. But, it was once a political marriage, it can be that again.”

“Loki,” Anthony began, and his voice sounded so sad.

Loki cringed, but he didn’t stop. “Please, Anthony. I will do anything to keep you in my life. If it is a marriage in name only, if I can’t have your touch anymore, I will still take it. I will take any of it. I am still a prince, this is still of benefit to your planet.”

“Loki-” he heard the mortal moving and hurried to finish.

“Please,” his voice cracked. “I love you.” He heard Anthony suck in a breath and he closed his eyes. “I love you. Please don't say you can't marry me anymore.”

The silence seemed to last an age, but when he heard footsteps coming closer, he tensed.

He didn’t expect to feel a warm, calloused hand cup his jaw and tilt up his head. Loki’s eyes snapped open and he moved without resistance until he was looking into Anthony’s face. It was filled with the sweetest warmth and softest affection.

“Oh, Loki. I would still marry you even without the alliance.”

“W-What?” Loki croaked, disbelief widening his eyes and stealing his words.

Anthony’s thumb stroked his cheek. “Sweetheart, I love you more than anything. Nothing that has happened has changed that.” A hint of sadness flashed through his eyes. “I stopped touching you because you tensed any time I got near. I didn’t want to make things harder for you. Nothing’s changed for me. You’re still my fiancé and the only one I want.”

Loki couldn’t believe it, but he still reached out for Anthony and gripped his shirt. He knew he was trembling, but he only tightened his hold on the fabric.

“But I’m… I’m…”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” Anthony interrupted firmly, his eyes holding Loki’s and showing nothing but the truth. “I hate what happened to you and all the pain it’s caused. I _hate_ that I can’t do something to fix it. But, I still love you. I still think you’re amazing, and I still want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Loki’s jaw was trembling and he was forcing down a sob. Anthony’s eyes only softened further, and when Anthony tugged him down, he moved without struggle. He felt nothing but disbelief as Anthony’s lips caressed his own.

He’d thought this was out of his grasp, he thought Anthony would never want to kiss him again.

But, as the kiss continued, as Anthony slid his arm around Loki’s waist, he finally realised it was _real_ – and the moment Loki did that, he was grabbing Anthony and hauling him in. He heard the mortal laugh against his mouth, but Loki didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around Anthony and held him with desperation and possession.

“Shh,” Anthony broke the kiss to whisper. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And, miraculously, _amazingly_ , Loki believed it.

He still couldn’t bring himself to let go. He brushed his lips over Anthony’s mouth again, then his cheek before burying his nose in Anthony’s hair. He breathed in his mortal, his _fiancé_ , and finally started to relax.

It suddenly reminded him how tired he was, and Anthony seemed to notice.

“It’s got to be past three am, what do you say we head to bed?”

Loki shook his head and tightened his hold. “I don’t want to let you go.”

“Who said you had to do that?”

Loki pulled back, watching Anthony carefully. The mortal was smiling gently. 

“We are not meant to share a bed.”

“Yeah, well, I think they’re going to give us this one,” Anthony said firmly. “ _We_ deserve it, after everything.”

Loki couldn’t find it in himself to disagree. He also didn’t want to waste a moment and he teleported them to Anthony’s room. Loki was already in his sleep clothes, but Anthony detached himself to move to the bathroom and get changed. 

Loki spent the time simply admiring Anthony’s room and bed; a place that, with any luck, would soon become as familiar to him as his own bedchambers on Asgard.

When Anthony returned only a few minutes later it was with a smile and a hand that took Loki’s, leading him to the bed and under the covers. It took a few moments to find a comfortable position, but in no time at all, Anthony’s back was to Loki’s front and he was curled around his mortal in a position he had craved for far too long.

Loki let out a soft sigh and pulled Anthony even closer. 

Everything was not solved and the pain of betrayal had not ebbed, but right now, in this moment, Loki could almost forget about it. He felt, for the first time in three weeks, content and _happy_ , and he had no intention of letting the feeling or Anthony go.


End file.
